


All Grief To Refrain

by tortoiseshells



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: COVID-19, Cancelled Plans, F/M, Gen, Modern AU, Slice of Life, Social Distancing & Its Discontents, saint patrick's day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoiseshells/pseuds/tortoiseshells
Summary: March 2020 in the Phinney-Foster social circle.
Relationships: Jedediah "Jed" Foster/Mary Phinney
Comments: 10
Kudos: 7





	All Grief To Refrain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [middlemarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/gifts).



**i.**  
“Bridget’s cancelling the Saint Patrick’s party,” said Mary, peering into the carton see how much creamer was left, before doctoring the two coffee mugs on the counter.

A foregone conclusion, Jed thought but didn’t say. He accepted one of the mugs as Mary scribbled ‘half and half’ on the grocery list. “Cancelled?”

“ ‘Indefinitely postponed.’ “

 _Hmm_. For a few moments – between his first gulp of coffee and the caffeine hitting his system – Jed thought _postponement_ didn’t much sound like the no-nonsense Nurse Brannan. But then, she’d have had to lay in a stock of corned beef and colcannon and carrots and – whichever was cheaper, Guinness or Killian’s Red – and who’d want to live on that for weeks? Better to let it keep until voluntary quarantine was done, and they were all free to enjoy what was left of their spring…

Just spring? He hoped so, even if he didn’t believe it. Mary threw open the windows to the cool breeze, and Jed leaned against the sill, watching the world go by outside, daffodils nodding in the little backyard patch between their building and their neighbors. “The parade’s cancelled, too.”

“Mm,” said Mary. The morning light played across her collarbones, her smile. “A good time to catch up on – _something_.”

 **ii.**  
It was all hands on deck through the week, meetings and preparedness and rescuing boxes of masks from an avaricious ( _panicking_ , Mary corrected, generously. By the third time she wasn’t.) public, fielding daily calls from their relatives about COVID-19 and their health and whether or not hand sanitizer would kill it and did Jed and Mary have any to spare? Mary pushed puzzle-pieces around her table nervously in the evening, thinking of her Mom’s independent spirit and unwillingness to sit at home; Jed had nearly lost his temper at his mother when she’d – in sequence – refused to get her flu shot, come down with a textbook case, and then convinced herself it was Coronavirus.

(Jed broke his radio silence to Ezra for a short, blunt text that their mother was his responsibility. It was the least he could do, after – well. He’d thrown his phone against the couch cushions and paced on the little back porch until the streetlights had come on.)

Still, misery loved company and there was plenty to go around. Sam kept the groupchat posted on Charlotte’s crusade against price-gouging resellers. Kendrick, one of the student nurses, had had to cancel his Spring Break plans – spending his now extended practicum hours sulking and surreptitiously checking the weather in Costa Rica. Henry called one night on speaker to check up on them, and both he and Mary could hear Emma’s moonlight-and-magnolia drawl snarling out a blistering litany against the current administration. 

Henry muttered his excuses and turned the phone into his shoulder, but Jed could just make out a quiet, concerned question.

“Sounds like you have another Czolgosz on your hands,” Jed said, not very helpfully.

Henry gave a pained sigh. “Don’t give her ideas.”

Jed didn’t bother to stifle his chuckle, then, though he could _just_ see his friend turn his eyes towards Heaven and silently ask himself, again, why he hadn’t done as his father had and taught theology instead of attempting to practice it. 

“We’d get a collection going to post her bail,” said Mary, a little edge in her voice, looking up from the puzzle table.

 **iii.**  
The Saturday of the would-have-been party broke dark and snowy – one more unpleasant twist from a spiteful week, as far as Jed was concerned. He murmured a complaint about her cold feet into Mary’s hair in the dawn half-light, laughing as Mary, half-asleep, grumbled something about _thin-blooded Southerners_. 

Jed listened to her breathing slow as Mary drifted back to sleep, before easing himself out from under the quilt and padding towards the kitchen. Plum trilled her distress at being ignored in favor of the kettle and French press, twining herself around Jed’s ankles and looking demandingly at her empty bowl until finally rescued from imminent starvation.

Waiting for water to boil, Jed flipped through his messages – an article Mary forwarded from _Der Spiegel_ about CureVac’s dealings with the White House, a snapshot of empty Paris streets from Lisette, a beautifully-punctuated update from Fritz and Jo from Plumfield. He had to smile at the last – they’d been going so long that he’d hardly had a moment to think, to look around. 

Another message arrived with a _ding!_ while he poured the kettle out over the grounds. _Sam Diggs: Surprise Nurse B with group call? 1400, no green beer_.

 _Sure_ , he tapped out, smiling, _I’ll tell Mary_.

**Author's Note:**

> From middlemarch's tumblr prompt, "postpone".
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, so stayed away from actually commenting on the virus itself or medical protocol, but I'm sure there's some errors in here somewhere. My apologies!
> 
> Jed's 'Czolgosz' reference is, of course, to Leon Czolgosz, assassin of President McKinley. Jed seems like he went through a Sondheim phase at some point in his life?


End file.
